I've got to do something
by Lovetoread75
Summary: Johnny is sick and tired of the way his parents are treating him, always beating him up and yelling at him. He can't deal with the pain any longer, he feels that he's got to do something to deal with the pain. Will his attempt to deal make things better or will it make things even more messed up? Please read and review or follow/favorite and most importantly enjoy the story
1. Chapter 1

**A new story, yay. Please read and review or follow/favorite and most importantly enjoy the story:)**

**I don't own The Outsiders**

I heard the door slam behind me and kept running. I was running for my dear life. I heard heavy footsteps behind me and ran faster through the yard, opened the gate and I was on my way to the lot. The heavy footsteps stopped at the gate. I heard my father turn around and walk back to the house. My father drinks and he regularly beats me. Today was no exception. He beat me repeatedly with the belt all over my body and then he was punching me all over making me fall on the floor. That's when he started kicking me with his feet. I was in so much pain. I felt bruises forming all over my body and I was bleeding. My shirt was all messed up in blood.

I was so tired of always getting beat up, at the fact that my parents were alcoholics, that they didn't care about me, that they were always fighting. I was so tired of it. I felt that I needed to do something to stop the pain. Both physical and emotional. But what could I possibly do? Sometimes I seriously considered suicide. It was always on the back of my mind.

Right now though all I could think of was running to the lot. We had this vacant lot in our neighborhood. That's where I went when I wanted to be alone and right now I wanted to be alone. I was always welcome at the Curtis. They are part of our gang, but right now I didn't want to go to the Curtis'. I just wanted to be alone. I was so ashamed of what was happening to me, and I really didn't want their pity.

When I finally reached the lot, I stopped to catch my breath. There was an old car seat at the lot. Somebody must've dragged it there long time ago. And I used it when I stayed the night at the lot. And that's what I planned to do today – stay at the lot.

As I came closer I saw, to my surprise, that someone was there, sitting on that old car seat and it wasn't one of the gang. I felt my muscles tense up. Who can it be? I tried to control my fear, and came up closer to the stranger. I slouched and hooked my thumbs in my pockets trying to look tough. The guy had noticed me and was looking up at me.

"Who are you, and what a hell are you doing here? This is our territory," I said through clenched teeth.

He looked confused. "Whose territory?"

"My gang's. You better leave pal."

"Is that right?" He said mocking, "I don't see your name written here."

"You better leave," I repeated in as tough of a voice as I could master.

"Make me." He said, and then added, "What's your deal anyway? You are all bleeding and shit."

"That's none of your business."

I realized that I was in no condition to fight this guy, and he realized it too, and was taking full advantage of it. So I sat on the ground across from him. He obnoxiously took the car seat.

I tried to block out the guy and just relax. I was in a lot of pain from the beating and I wanted to lie down, but he got the car seat, and I wasn't about to lie down on the ground just like that.

The guy seemed to pay me no attention. He opened his bag and took out a spoon. So he was going to eat, I thought. Then he took a water bottle and a lighter, then he took out a syringe. What's that for? I thought. Is he diabetic or something? Then he took out a small plastic bag with white powder. Oh, no an idea dawned on me. And sure enough he ripped the bag open and filled the spoon with the powder and added a few drops of water from the water bottle. It was clear to me he was a junkie. He was doing everything in a rush like he really needed a fix badly. Then he started to heat up the bottom of the spoon using his lighter. After a few minutes when the contents in the spoon turned into a liquid he filled the syringe with the liquid. Then he rolled up his sleeve and shot into the vein. He seemed not to care at all that I was there. He just needed his fix. He bent his arm and lied down. He closed his eyes.

"So you are a junkie, huh?" I blurted out, "that's really low."

He looked at me calmly. The look in his eyes was like he was experiencing a total bliss.

"You don't know what you are talking about kid," he replied, and his voice sounded soothing and relaxed. "You haven't actually tried it. You feel so good. You feel like you are flying. You forget everything and you don't have a care in the world."

"But it's destroying your body and your mind." I countered.

"I don't care," He replied, "It's worth it."

I decided to go to the Curtis after all. I wasn't comfortable with this junkie there. I came into the Curtis', and immediately all attention was on me. I hated that. At least they knew not to ask what happened, because they knew what had happened. They helped me clean my wounds and put bandages on them. I didn't tell them about the guy at the lot 'cause I was embarrassed that I wasn't able to make him leave even though it was our territory. If it was Dal or Steve or anyone from the gang, except maybe Pony, they'd be able to make the guy leave.

I was sitting on the couch in the Curtis' living room, and Pony came in and plopped down next to me. He looked at me sadness in his eyes. He looked helpless. Like he'd like to help me, but there was nothing he could do. I knew that look. I've seen it every time I showed up at the Curtis after a beating. Suddenly I felt myself out of breath.

"I can't take it anymore Pony." I blurted out, "I'll kill myself or something."

"Stop it!" Pony yelled, "Don't talk like that!"

"I don't know. I got to do something." Pony just looked at me and again there was this helplessness in his eyes. Like he'd like to help me, but there is nothing he can do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi all, here is chapter 2. Enjoy and please R&R.**

A few days have passed. I stayed at the Curtis' most of the time, but finally I had to go home. My parents were fighting again when I walked in. They were cursing loudly, throwing ashtrays at each other and breaking dishes. They saw me walk in and both of them immediately lashed out at me. It was a way for them to let the anger they had for each other out on me.

"Where have you been boy?" my father yelled taking the belt out. I knew he didn't care that I wasn't around. He hardly noticed it anyway. So this was just an excuse to beat me. I considered running back out, but it was too late – my dad had already grabbed my arm. He dragged me to the living room and started hitting me with the belt across my back. I winced with every blow, but didn't let out a sound. That got him even madder. He stopped with the belt and delivered a blow to my jaw, then my eye then my stomach. He pushed me, and I hit the wall with my back. He then continued punching me in the stomach. It hurt really, really bad, but I was able to still stay on my feet and not fall down. I also used the wall for support. Finally, he hit me with a beer bottle on my head.

I got out of his grip and ran for the door. I was able to make it. I ran out of the house just like I did so often after the beatings. I was so sick and tired of this. Just really sick and tired. I ran in desperation. I couldn't take it anymore, I was cursing and crying. I ran to the lot. Once again I didn't want to go to the Curtis' 'cause I wanted to avoid their pity as much as possible and that sad, helpless look in Pony's eyes.

So I ran to the lot remembering the guy, and hoping he wasn't there this time. But sure enough he was there.

"Whatever the hell happened to you?" he asked curiously, taking the needle out of is vein.

"None of your business," I replied, trying to control my tears so he wouldn't see that I was crying.

"Whatever" He gave me an indifferent look, "Suit yourself," he added, bending his arm and lying down on his back and closing his eyes. I had nowhere else to go. Like I said I hated the pity I got if I went to the Curtis' so I just stayed there at the lot crying silent hot tears. And what hurt the most was not the physical pain from my father's beating. No, it was emotional pain of knowing that they were my parents. The ones that were supposed to love me and care for me and to help through difficult situations in life. Instead, they didn't care and even hated me. They used me to let out their own frustrations at life and their anger and hatred for each other.

In about an hour the guy opened his eyes. He looked happy, like he's been to some incredible, happy place. I looked at him for a while. 'I've got to do something' I remembered my own words. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was my chance, my opportunity to do something, to make myself not care that my parents hate me.

I looked at the guy, who seemed to pay no attention to me.

"Um…does it… um, does it really make you not care about things?" I asked carefully.

"Sure does," the guy replied kind of proudly. Like he was proud that he was doing it. "It makes you feel great. You won't remember a thing."

"C…can you do it…I mean for me?"

He gave me a stern look, then smirked slyly – "I thought you said it's low and it messes up your mind and your body?"

"Just do it," I commanded, rolling up my sleeve and extending my arm for him to stick the needle in.

"Easy there. I got to prep it first."

"Well, then prep it." I was excited and scared at the same time. Maybe this will help. Maybe I could finally be like Dally and not care about anything, be as hard as a wall.

The guy prepped the drugs just like I saw him do the other time, using a spoon and his lighter.

"Ok, gimmi your arm."

I extended my arm so he could reach. He inserted the needle into my vein like a pro who'd done it many times.

"Here you go. Prepare for a time of your life, kid."

I felt tense and scared - what have I done?

"Try to relax," The guy instructed. "Here, I feel like being nice today. Lie down." He got up from the car seat and motioned for me to lie down there. I did. I lay on my back waiting for the drug to kick in. Soon I felt my muscles relax. I felt a little dizzy, but still felt good overall. I opened my eyes and saw bright blue endless sky above me. I felt like I was flying. I was in a state of trance. Almost like an out of body experience. Like I was there in the sky, while my body was here. I felt like thousands of butterflies were carrying me in the sky, like I was carried in this enormous, endless blue. It was beyond anything that words could describe.

After a while the initial high passed, but I was still drugged up I could feel it. I felt happy and sort of detached from reality. I seemed not to care about anything, including the beatings and the fact that my parents didn't care about me.

"So you like it?" The guy asked. I was ashamed to admit that I liked it, no loved it. I just nodded looking down at the ground.

"Whadda I tell you?" He playfully punched me on the shoulder. I was sitting up now, and he took a seat next to me on the car seat. This was mine and Pony's spot. We'd sat here smoking and talking so many times. And now this stranger was sitting next to me, and I could never tell Pony or anyone what I've just done and that I actually liked it.

"Anyway, what are you running from?" The guy asked, "You are all blood and bruises."

"Got into a fight." I lied. I had no intentions of telling this stranger what was really going on.

I looked at him carefully. "What about you, what's your story? What are you doing here?"

"Name's Andy, what's yours?" He replied,

"I'm Johnny," I said.

"I'm a runaway." He said it proudly. Ike it was something to be really proud of.

"Where from?" I asked.

"Texas," He replied. He got all serious all of the sudden.

"How come you ran away?"

"It's a long story. My mother," He paused for a second and then continued, "She left, and my dad paid no attention to me. It's like he hated me, because I reminded him of her. I look like her. That's when I started using. A few months ago he remarried, and his wife has been a real bitch to me. So, I ran away."

"Why Tulsa?" I asked curiosity getting the best of me.

"No particular reason 'cept a friend of mine who helped me get the junk over there tipped me off where I can get it here."

We talked a little more, and then went to sleep. He took the car seat, and I had to lie down on the ground across from him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, here is the next chapter. Thanks everyone for reading. Especially thanks to Chick1966 and greaserlover55 for following and thanks FrankElza for reviewing and following. Please read and let me know what you think. Enjoy.**

A few weeks passed by. I needed a fix every day, and I was a little concerned that I was getting addicted, but Andy was right it did make you feel good and like things were alright and not shit like they really were. It made me not care about my parents anymore even though I got more than one beating during these weeks. I didn't feel such despair and I didn't need to be running crying to Curtis anymore like I used to. I was able to handle things on my own.

On Saturday I finally went to the Curtis. I was always there on Saturdays, and if I didn't show up they would get suspicious. I stopped by the lot and got my fix before going though. We watched TV for a little while and played a few poker games. I won 4 times out of 5. When it started to get dark "Let's go to the lot," Pony suggested. "Maybe we can watch the stars if you don't mind." My heart jumped. I couldn't let Pony meet Andy. Andy didn't care to cover up that he was using. He'd do it right in front of Pony just like he did right in front of me. Probably would try to get Pony into it too and would surely mention that I was using too.

"Johnny," Ponyboy interrupted my thoughts

"Huh?"

"Are we going to the lot?"

"You know Pony, I've got to confess something. I don't really like going to the lot anymore."

"How come?"

"It reminds me of that night with me killing Bob and everything…"

"But that happened at the park not the lot and we've been avoiding the park ever since."

"Yeah, but the lot is where it started… I… I just don't feel comfortable going there you dig?" I felt terrible lying to him, but I had no choice. There was no way I'd let him meet Andy and find out my secret.

"Fine," Pony replied, "but where have you been staying the nights when you weren't at our house if you didn't go to the lot?"

"At the junk yard," I lied. "You know where some homeless people made their camp."

"You got to be careful over there." Pony sounded really concerned, frightened even.

"I know, I know," I replied just to calm him down.

"Let's go to the drive-in," he suggested, "and maybe we can watch the stars there once the movie is over."

"Sure, let's go," I replied. I'd go anywhere he suggested and do anything he suggested just as long as it wasn't going to the lot. So we went to the movies, and hung outside afterwards, then Pony went home and I went back to the lot.

The next week was like the one before. Things were finally falling into routine that I liked. I slept at the lot and got my fix every morning. Andy claimed the car seat, so I had to sleep on the ground even though initially I didn't want to do that, but I had no choice. I snuck into the house a few times to change my clothes. I waited till my parents were out or sleeping.

On Thursday during the lunch break I met up with Pony. We always met up by the lockers and then waited for Steve and Two-Bit and drove to this diner to get something to eat since greasers never ate at the cafeteria. Pony showed up almost right away, and we were waiting for Steve and Two-Bit, when these two socs passed by us. I hated them. I hated everything about them, but mostly how they always acted like they were better than us, smarter than us, and how they jumped us all the time. I looked at them passing by so cocky and arrogant. I wanted to fight them right there and then. I was so sick and tired of them. Everything about them irritated me – their semi-beatle haircuts, their madras shirts and their short pants.

"Hey, nice haircut," I yelled at them before I even knew what I was doing. I didn't care I just wanted to fight them. They turned around in disbelief that I just mouthed off to them like that. Pony was staring at me with round eyes. He looked at me like I was crazy, because I never, ever started fights. I avoided them as much as I could. I was not like Steve or Two-Bit, who enjoyed a good fight. And besides, I was of small build so the chance of me beating someone as opposed to being beaten was really small. Pony didn't know that it was the drugs talking. The drugs made me aggressive and overconfident and prone to violence. But I really liked how it felt. Like I was on top ofhte world.

After the initial shock the socs turned around and started walking towards us.

"What did you say? You fucking shit," the taller of the two yelled.

"You heard me," I replied, hatred in my voice. They were coming closer, and their intention was clear. They wanted to fight. I slouched and hooked my thumbs in my pockets, trying to look tough.

Without waiting for them to get even closer, I walked forward, met them half way, and punched the tall one in the stomach really hard. He then grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. I got out of his grip and punched him in the jaw. He took a few steps back, but didn't fall.

I looked over at Pony. He was fighting the other one, and he was losing. Suddenly, I felt a pang in my stomach. I got Pony involved in this. It wasn't his fault that I felt like fighting, and now he was being beat up. I punched the soc in the shoulder then shoved him across the wall, hoping to finish him and go help Pony, but who was I kidding. The soc was much stronger than me and could handle me just fine. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and delivered a few blows to my face. I felt blood running down my face. Strangely enough though, I didn't feel the pain only hatred. Suddenly, there were five of them. I don't know where the other three came from. Two of them started beating on me, and one went to help the other soc beat Pony. He didn't need help though, he was finishing Pony, and I felt extremely guilty about that.

The crowd started gathering around. The three socs were able to push me from one to another until I finally fell to the floor. I had blood smeared all over my face and my hands. Not even ten minutes passed, but it seemed like this was going on forever.

Finally, I saw Steve and Two-Bit making their way through the crowd. Steve attacked the two that were pounding on me, and Two-Bit went to help Pony. Suddenly, the crowd went "Uh," and people started running in different directions. What was the matter? I thought. Then I saw the principal making his way through the crowd. Our coach following him closely.

"Break it up," the principal barked, and tried to drag me off of the soc

I was attacking. The coach did the same with Steve. He was holding Steve, while Steve was still waving his hands in the air as if trying to hit the soc. The socs that were beating on Pony tried to run, but the principal stopped them quickly.

"Running won't help," He proceeded to say, "I know each and every one of your last names. In my office! Now!" With a heavy head I followed the principal to his office. I felt so guilty - now Pony was going to get in trouble because of me. I looked over at him. He looked terrible. His whole face was smeared with blood and there was blood on his shirt. His jeans were ripped at the knee.

All of us walked into the principal's office. "Will someone tell me what happened?"

"They started it," the tall one, the one that I attacked said. , "He started it," the other one pointed at me, and I saw Steve and Two-Bit frown. I'm sure they assumed that the socs started it, because neither I nor Pony would ever start a fight. Before today that is.

"Is that so Mr. Cade?" I nodded. I hated myself at that moment. What was I thinking?

"You should've known to walk away," The principal spoke to the socs, "Use better judgment next time. You can go now, while you four get detention for a whole week." The socs snickered when they heard that.

So for the whole week, including Saturday, we had detention, while the bastards walked away with a slap on the wrist.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok here is the next chappie. This one is a little short. The next one will be longer. Thanks everyone for reading. Please don't forget to review.**

**I don't own The Outsiders**

Pony and I were going to the Dingo, but we wanted to stop by the records store on the way. Pony wanted to buy some records. So we stepped into the store, and Pony went to the rock section right away. I followed him. I didn't really have any money to buy any records. All of the sudden I got an urge to steal. I wondered how Two-Bit felt when he did it. I asked Pony to turn around, so he blocked the clerk's view, and quickly hid a few records I liked under my shirt. Pony was looking at me like I had a horn coming out of my head, but said nothing. I motioned for him to get whatever he wanted. He picked one record, and I took it from him and hid it under my shirt also. Then we left the store. The clerk shot us an unfriendly look since we didn't buy anything, but he sure had no clue that we lifted a few records.

We left the store, and as soon as we turned the corner Pony got in my face. "What'd you do that for? We could've just bought them."

"We could," I replied, feeling a rush of excitement from what I've just done, "But it's more fun this way. Besides, I didn't have any money."

"I could've gotten them for you." Ponyboy protested, sounding frustrated.

"Like I said it's more fun this way."

"Whatever has gotten into you lately?" Pony said running his fingers through his hair. "It's like you are acting so different. Like you are not yourself."

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to sound surprised, while in reality I knew what he meant, and I liked the new me much better than the always scared me. I liked the confident me, the proud me, me that could start fights and shoplift records. I liked how I felt braver, tougher and like I didn't care what would happen. I felt like I was becoming more like Dally and I really, really liked that.

"It's like, I don't know," Pony said, "you picked a fight the other day, and now you are stealing..."

I retrieved the records from under my shirt, handing them to Pony proudly. I liked how I felt such a rush of excitement from what I've just done.

"We could've gotten caught," Pony said frustrated.

"But we didn't," I laughed at him, "We wouldn't get caught, 'cause I know what I'm doing," I laughed at him again.

"Jees," Pony said, "It's like I don't even know you anymore."

"I don't know what you are talking about," I tried to calm him down.

The rest of the way to the Dingo we walked in silence. Finally, Pony seemed to calm down a little and he started talking to me again. We ate at the Dingo and then he went home, and I went to the lot. Only I didn't tell him I was going to the lot. I lied again that I was going to the junk yard where he thought I was staying these days.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok, so here is chapter 5. Thanks everyone for reading. For those of you who are wondering when the gang will find out Johnny's secret it's not in this chapter yet, but it's in the next one so read to find out.**

On Friday night I went to the Curtis. I didn't really want to go all that much, but I didn't want them going looking for me at the junk yard and realizing that I wasn't there or looking for me at the lot and finding out about Andy. I got my fix that day as always.

When I got there, Two-Bit turned the TV on, but instead of Mickey Mouse we there was weather report. The woman was saying that there was a storm alert in our area, that the storm was severe and everyone should stay inside. Then it went back to the cartoons, but on the bottom of the screen the message about severe storm was displayed. Soon after that it started pouring and there was lightning and thunder. Usually, I was pretty scared of the storms, especially lightning, but today I didn't care, and I liked that feeling of not being scared of anything or anyone.

"Poker anyone?" Soda asked.

"Sure," I replied. Pony, Steve, Dally and Two-Bit also wanted to play, but Darry opted out. I usually won when we played. I wouldn't say **all** the time, but **most** of the time. Today, however, Soda was winning all the time. I started to get all worked up about it. I knew it was just a game, but it mattered to me. I had a strong feeling that Soda was cheating.

"You are cheating," I accused him. I got up and went to the other side of the table, where Soda was sitting. "Take off your shoes," I demanded. He did, grinning the entire time. There was nothing in the shoes.

"The socks," I demanded next. Soda proceeded to take the socks off, and sure enough a couple of aces fell out. Soda laughed. "Ok, ok I was going to cheat, but I didn't. I haven't used any of these I swear. I just had them just in case," he laughed again. Apparently he found the whole thing funny, but I didn't think it was funny at all.

I punched him on the shoulder, and he just laughed, because he thought I was playing, but I wasn't playing at all. "Don't you laugh at me," I yelled and attacked Soda, and he fell on the floor. He was caught completely off guard that's why he fell. He was much stronger than me, and I knew it, but I still wanted to fight him.

In a second we were rolling around on the floor, and I kept punching Soda everywhere I could. The others were watching in disbelief, not knowing what to expect. They knew Soda could take me, and that's why they didn't jump in to help. But for some reason Soda just wouldn't fight back. "C'mon Johnny," he pleaded, "Stop it. I don't want to fight you. I don't want to hurt you, you get enough from your parents."

"Don't you bring my parents into this," I yelled and punched him harder.

Pony was watching the whole thing apprehensively, and Steve, who unlike Soda was willing to fight me, ran up to us and pulled me off of Soda. He then twisted my arms behind my back and delivered a few punches. "That'll bring you back to your senses," he said through clenched teeth.

"What a hell is going on?" Darry emerged from his room.

"Well, you ain't gonna believe this, but Johnny here attacked Soda over a poker game," Steve said, "I had to break it up."

Darry looked puzzled. "Johnny, how come you attacked Soda?" he asked clearly confused.

"Stop bugging me," I replied, "and you know what? I'm tired of you. I don't need your pity. I'm out of here." With that I proceeded to the door.

"Wait Johnny," Pony yelled, "we weren't giving you pity. It's a storm out there where are you going to go?"

I just went outside and started walking. I saw Pony and Dally run out of the house after me. "He used to be scared of storms," I heard Pony yell to Dally. I dint' want them to get me so I started running in the pouring rain, and it felt kind of nice.

"C'mon Johnny," Pony yelled, "You used to be scared of storms." I didn't reply and kept running. Pony is a really good runner though, he's even on the track team. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm. "C'mon, we are going back."

"No, we ain't," I tried to free my arm. Then Dallas caught up with us as well.

"I don't know what the hell your problem is, but I don't really want to find out." With that he grabbed me and lifted me up and over his shoulder so that my head was down and my feet were up.

"What a hell are you doing?" I yelled, "Put me down." He just kept walking. I was still waving my hands in the air, but, of course, I couldn't get out since Dally was much stronger than me. He brought me back to the Curtis, and set me on the floor, Ponyboy following right behind him.

Darry looked like he wasn't amused. "Johnny," he said roughly, "I don't have time for this shit. Do you know what time it is? C'mon, you take Pony's bed since he sleeps with Soda now, the rest of you decide who is going to take the couch and who is going to sleep on the floor."

"I get the couch," Two-Bit yelled immediately.

"Why you?" Steve countered, "I haven't slept in here for longer than you. I get the couch."

"I'll get the floor," Dally said roughly and showing off how tough he was that he didn't need the couch, he was just fine sleeping on the hard floor. Steve wanted to look tough too I guess, so he changed his mind and said to Two-Bit "Fine, you get the couch, I'll take the floor."

"Suit yourself," Two-Bit grinned at him. After that I went to Pony's room and took his bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ok, chapter 6. Enjoy and let me know what you think**

The next morning I woke up early. I figured everybody was still asleep, so I stayed in the room. I was thinking of leaving so I could get my fix. But I couldn't just leave. I had to wait for them to get up. In a while I started to feel the effects of not getting a fix. I started to feel dizzy and nauseous and I was sweating. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. My muscles were sore. I needed to go. I got up, pulled my jeans and my t-shirt on ready to go. I went down the hallway and saw that everyone was already up.

"Morning Johnny," Ponyboy said.

"Morning," I replied, "I am going to go."

Concern momentarily flashed in Pony's eyes.

"Where are you going? Stay for breakfast."

"Yeah Johnny how come you are not staying for breakfast?" Soda asked. I could tell he wasn't mad about yesterday, but he was concerned.

"I've got to go," was all I said and rushed out the door.

I reached the lot in no time. I barely said hello to Andy, and stretched my arm for him to shoot up. He inserted the needle into my vein, and I relaxed. He took the needle out, and I looked up. To my complete shock I saw Ponyboy standing there – his eyes huge and round. He must've followed me, shit and I was so focused on getting my fix that I didn't notice. Pony was looking at me in shock and disbelief.

"You are… are… shooting up," he finally managed.

I was embarrassed to admit that I was shooting up, and that I actually liked it. But suddenly my embarrassment turned into anger. "Don't judge me," I said through clenched teeth. "You don't have a problem with your dad beating you every time you turn around," I added bitterly. Then I thought if I explain it to him, he would understand.

Remember," I said softer this time, "Remember I said I had to do something. Well, this is the something, and it works. It was between this or suicide. I picked this." Pony gasped at the word suicide.

"Now I know why you were acting so weird," he whispered. Then he just turned around and ran. I sighed heavily. I just lost my best friend. I thought of running after him, but figured it was useless. Pony is not even going to talk to me after this. So I didn't run after him. I stayed at the lot. I lay down on my back and looked up. Andy did the same.

Suddenly, I felt someone grab me under my arms from the back. I looked up and saw that it was Dallas. And it was written all over his face that he was mad. Pony must've sent him. I felt a detached feeling of not caring what was going to happen. He dragged me, and then rested me in a sitting position against the tree.

"What a hell?" he yelled, "You are a fucking junkie?"

"It's either this or suicide," I replied, trying to sound rough.

"This _is_ suicide. Even I know that. I know I drink and get drunk all the time, but even _I_ know not to get into this shit 'cause it's gonna mess up your body an d your mind."

Again I felt like maybe if I explained it, he would get off my case. "It's just you don't know how I feel," I started, "with my parents and everything, and being beat up all the time. This helps me. It's actually really good. Maybe you should try it."

"Sure, and then we'll be just sitting up here, having good ol' time," he said sarcasm in his voice.

Suddenly, he turned his attention to Andy, who was still lying on his back with his eyes closed, enjoying the high.

"I don't know who the fuck you are and where the fuck you are from," Dally yelled at Andy, "but I'm gonna kill you mother fucker. You'll regret you ever set your foot into this place." With that he attacked Andy from the front. Andy was still too relaxed to fight, but he managed to slug Dally, but Dally was much stronger than Andy. In a second they were rolling around on the ground. Finally, Dally got Andy on his back and Dally was sitting on his stomach. He slugged him on the face repeatedly. Then Dally got up. Andy was really beat up, but he got up too. Daly punched him in the stomach one more time, and Andy doubled over in pain.

"You trash," Dally said through clenched teeth, "I don't care what you do with _your_ life, but when you turn my friend into a junkie you got to deal with me. C'mon Johnny, let's go," he said next.

"I ain't… I'm not going," I replied.

"What did you say?" he asked in disbelief, "Quit playing. Let's go or you want me to beat the tar out of you too?" He grabbed my arm, then he came up closer, and since I was so relaxed from the drugs, I didn't even protest. He grabbed me bridal style and proceeded to carry me.

"Scum, if I ever see you here again that'll be the end of you," he shot at Andy, "understood?" Andy nodded slowly, while wiping the blood from his broken nose.


	7. Chapter 7

**So I'm updating for the 2nd time this week. Had some free time on my hands so I thought I'd update:) Please read and review**

Dal had Buck's car parked nearby, and sat me down into the passenger seat. He didn't say anything just gave me a look, and I saw such disappointment in his eyes that I almost started to cry. I worshiped the ground Dallas walked on. He was like my older brother, my hero and I wanted, no **needed** him to be proud of me, not disappointed.

Now, Dallas always drove fast, but this time he drove twice as fast as his usual. He pressed on the breaks so abruptly when we got to the Curtis that I jumped in my seat. He looked at me as if asking if he should carry me or I would go on my own. I got up and got out of the car.

We walked inside. Everyone was there, including Pony, and by the looks on their faces I realized that they already knew. I looked away, unable to meet their eyes, although I did glance at Ponyboy from the corner of my eye. I saw guilt written all over his face. Like he felt guilty that he told everyone.

"Why don't you go lie down in Pony's bed," Darry said, and I was surprised at how soft his voice sounded. Usually Darry spoke in a rough voice. I expected him and everyone else for that matter to be mad and disappointed just like Dal, but apparently that wasn't the case. I did as told and got into Pony's bed.

"You are going to stay here, and you are not going to get a drop, you hear me?" Dallas barked. He was mad I could tell. He was scowling the whole time and spoke in abrupt short sentences that felt more like orders, but Dally is always rough. That's just the way he is.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Almost a month."

"Good. You are not that into it yet, you'll be able to stop. You are going to feel like shit though I'm telling ya, but you gotta go through that."

I was terrified, to tell you the truth, because I knew how terrible I felt if I didn't get my fix.

Dallas left. I stayed in bed for the rest of the day, refusing food even though everyone tried to bring it to me. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"What?" I yelled thinking it's one of the gang bringing me food again.

"It's me, Ponyboy, can I come in?"

"Yeah," I said weakly.

"I'm sorry Johnny," he said, coming closer to the bed.

"What for?" I asked surprised.

"For telling everyone. It's just,…" he paused, "this stuff is really bad for you, and I needed to let the others know so we could help you get off of it, you dig?"

I looked at him then nodded. "I'm sorry too." I said, "I thought you would never speak to me again after you'd seen me shoot up."

He looked surprised. "You gotta know me better than that," he replied. "I just want to help you. We all just want to help you. And we are not giving you pity. I need you know that."

I nodded and looked away.

"Good night Johnnycake," Pony said softly, walking towards the door.

"Good night Ponyboy."

The next morning I woke up knowing that I wouldn't get my fix. Time was passing by, and I started to feel the effects of not shooting up today. My whole body tensed up, and I felt pain in my muscles and my bones. I felt hot then cold then hot again. Beads of sweat were forming on my forehead. I felt nausea take over me, and I made it to the bathroom just in time. Then I ran back to bed and under the covers. I was freezing cold again. It was Sunday, but both Darry and Soda had to work. Two-Bit had to babysit his kid sister, so that meant only Pony and Dally were staying home with me. I was kind of hoping that maybe I'd be alone, but in about 10 minutes the door opened and there was Dal. He had a plate in his hands. "Here, try to eat this." He gave me the plate. It was oatmeal.

"Do I have to?" I asked.

"Damn sure you do."

"But Dal…"

"I don't want to hear it."

My whole body was shaking. Dal also brought a glass of water, and I took a few sips. I ate my oatmeal too. I felt ashamed of my addiction, but at the same time I was mad at Dal and the rest of them. It was working, it was helping me deal with the truth about my parents and the beatings so why should I stop?

I felt another bout of nausea and rushed to the bathroom again. After I was done, "I'm sorry," Dal said.

"What for?"

"Sorry you have to go through this. I wish I'd found out sooner. It would've been easier to quit then. Do you need anything?" he added. I didn't say anything, and Dal sat down on the chair by Pony's desk. I felt freezing cold again. "A blanket," I said weakly.

"What?"

"Can I have another blanket? I'm really freezing." Dally gave me a concerned look, then searched in the closet and found another blanket and covered me with it on top of the one I already had only for me to feel hot in about 10 minutes and throw both blankets off of me.

"What's the matter?" Dallas asked concerned.

"Nothing, man. I'm just hot now. I keep feeling hot and cold and hot again."

"Maybe it would be better if you sleep through this." He left the room and came back in a few minutes with 2 sleeping pills and a glass of water. "Here, take these."

I took the pills, and curled up in bed, pulling my knees into my chest. I pulled the blankets up to my chin. I was cold again. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. Soon enough I was asleep.

When I woke up it was already late. Dally was still sitting in Pony's chair by his desk. My whole body hurt – my muscles and my bones were hurting, but I didn't want to lose it in front of Dally, so I tried to tolerate the pain as much as I could. Soon there was a knock on the door, and Pony walked in with a bowl of soup. "How are you feeling Johnny?" He asked.

"I'm ok," I lied, again not wanting to lose it in front of either of them. Pony didn't sound mad, just sad. He gave me the bowl.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, taking the bowl from him, unable to meet his eyes. Pony didn't reply. He just sighed.

"It's just like I didn't know what else to do," I continued. "I was really thinking of killing myself." Pony visible tensed up at the mention of that.

"Then I met this guy and he said it really makes you feel good and takes your mind off of everything. At first I really didn't want to do it, but then I wanted to try it, because of the way he was talking about it. Between suicide and the drugs I picked the drugs, and it really worked. It helped you know."

Pony signed again. "I'm really glad you… um, you didn't do anything stupid like trying to kill yourself. Now go back to sleep."

I nodded and closed my eyes.

The next morning I woke up to Dally still sitting in the chair by Pony's desk. Had he been here all night? I hope not.

I felt another bout of nausea and I ran to the bathroom. I was coughing loudly and throwing up. Suddenly Dally entered the bathroom. He came up to me and pulled my hair out of my face and to the back, while I was bending over the toilet throwing up. Suddenly I felt dizzy and then everything went black.

When I came to, I was back in bed and a cold wet towel was placed on my forehead. Dally was sitting next to me on the bed and was wiping the sweat off of my face with another wet towel. I tried to sit up, but was unable to do so. "Easy there," Dal said, and his voice sounded soft, not rough at all. He put the pillow against the headboard of the bed and helped me seat up. He handed me a glass of water that was on the night stand next to the bed.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You were throwing up and then you passed out in the bathroom. How you feeling now? Are you dizzy or anything?"

"A little dizzy and really hot."

"No wonder, you are sweating," Dal said wiping off the sweat of my face. He didn't look mad. The scowl was gone, and he just looked really worried.

"I'm sorry," I whispered meeting his gaze.

"I know you are," he replied ruffling my hair. "How's the pain?"

"My muscles and my bones hurt," I replied honestly.

"Damn it Johnny, d'ya know how this shit can mess you up. I just don't want that to happen to you."

I nodded – "I know Dal, I know now."

"Now you gotta eat something," he said, taking the towel from my forehead so he could wet it again. In a couple of minutes he was back with a bowl of soup and a wet towel. He placed the towel on my forehead and handed me the bowl.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ok, so here is chapter 8. Thanks everyone for reading.** **Just to let you know I'm going back to updating once a week. Most likely on Mondays. Anyway, here we go enjoy.**

The following week was all like that. Lots of throwing up, being freezing one minute and hot the next, all body muscles tensed up and aching. The pain was really hard to take.

After a week I felt less pain, but one morning I woke up really hot. It was different hot than before. I threw the blankets off of me.

"You hot again?" Dally, who was in the room, asked.

"Yeah," I replied, "but it's different than before."

He came up to me and put his hand on my forehead. "You are really burning up."

"I am?"

"Yeah"

He brought the thermometer, and sure enough I had a fever. My temperature was 102.2.

"Shit," Dal cursed, "even with withdrawal it doesn't really get like that. And it can't be a cold or a flu 'cause you haven't left the house, and none of the guys have it so you couldn't get it from them."

I was getting up to go to the bathroom. My arm was itching, so I scratched it. Dally noticed me scratching, and grabbed my arm. We both looked at the opening where I used to shoot up. That's what was itching. It was now all blue and puffy like there was puss in it.

"Oh, shit," Dally mumbled.

"What, what?" I asked.

"Don't you see? It got infected. That's why you have a fever. Why didn't you say anything before?"

"I thought it was really no big deal. And I was in pain and getting hot and cold all the time so I didn't pay attention to this. I thought it'd heal on its own."

"Johnny, do you know what an untreated infection can do to you?" Dally yelled. He almost lost his cool. Then he forced himself to calm down a bit, and said "I have to get you to the hospital right away." He grabbed me bridal style and carried me to the car.

We were sitting in the waiting room, and it seemed like forever. I was still going through withdrawal, and I needed to throw up. Dally went with me to the bathroom. "Hurry up," he tried to rush me, "what if they call your name while we are in here."

"It's not really up to me how long I got to be in here," I replied, choking a little.

We hardly made it out of the bathroom when we heard "Mr. Cade," the nurse call out.

"Here, we are right here." Dally yelled.

The nurse was a woman in her forties and of a small built. "Please follow me." She said in an impersonal, low voice. She wasn't very friendly. She was just doing her job.

I tried to follow the nurse, but I was wobbling so I used Dal's shoulder for support.

"And who are you?"The nurse asked him, pursing her lips.

"I'm his brother," Dally lied.

"You can wait outside. I'm just going to take his vital signs."

"I think he needs me to help him," Dally replied. The nurse frowned, but said nothing. She took my blood pressure and temperature. It was still 102.

"So is the fever the reason for today's visit?" the nurse asked. I was too weak to reply so Dally replied for me. "He's got an infection that's why he has the fever."

"Where's the infection?" the nurse asked, writing what Dal just said in the chart. I rolled up the sleeve, revealing this blue and swollen wound. The nurse frowned once she saw the wound. She looked at me knowingly like she realized what the wound was from. Her whole facial expression changed. If before she was just impersonal, now she was looking at me with disgust.

"The doctor will be with you shortly," she said, and left the room.

In about 5 minutes the doc showed up. "Hi, I'm doctor Jackson," he greeted dryly, not smiling or anything. He then started reading what the nurse had written in the chart.

He was unusually young for a doctor. Not the usual gray-haired old man that I expected to see. He had dirty blond hair, a semi-Beatle haircut and blue eyes that pierced into you like he was the judge and you were the criminal or something. He was a regular soc, I thought, only grown up.

"So," he cleared his throat, "I understand you have an infected wound on your arm."

"Yeah, I replied."

"Let me see it," the doctor said. I rolled up the sleeve again, and showed the doc now completely blue mark on my arm, which was bulging 'cause of the puss.

After seeing the wound, the doctor seemed really alarmed. His face turned slightly red, and he took my arm in his hands to examine it more closely. It was obvious he realized what the wound was from. He pressed on the wound slightly, and I winced in pain. The doctor frowned, and looked at me. I saw disdain in his eyes.

Needless to say I hated staying there. Having to rely on these people, who looked down on me. In the meantime the doctor spoke "We are going to put you on antibiotics, intravenous. You should've sought help sooner. Now the infection really progressed. I have to be honest with you - we might have to amputate." I gasped at his words, and Dally's face turned pale.

"No way," I gasped again.

"You should've thought about that when shooting up." The doc said, and there was so much disapproval in his voice. He was judging me it was clear. He couldn't realize that anybody can make a mistake. That there are things that can push you into doing drugs such as child abuse. No, he didn't realize that. He was judging me, and I hated him for that.

The doc left, and the nurse walked in wheeling in a gurney. She motioned for me to get on it, and I did. Then she started wheeling me to the inpatient unit. I was shaking like a leaf, and the doc's words were replaying in my head – "we might have to amputate."

Dally was as white as a ghost, but he followed the nurse.

"We'll take it from here," she told him.

"Lady, you don't get it. I got to stay with him," Dal barked at her. She just waved him off, and kept wheeling the gurney through the double doors.

"You can't be in here right now," she said in an impersonal, irritated voice, "You can come back during visiting hours."

Dally bit his lower lip. "I don't know what you are talking about. He needs me. I'm his brother and I need to stay with him."

"If you don't leave immediately, I'll call security."

I sat up on a gurney. "It's ok Dal," I said weakly, "I'm gonna be ok." Dally's facial expression changed, but he still wasn't sure. "Are you sure Johnny?"

"Yeah."

When Dal left, the nurse wheeled me into the room, and hooked me up to these tubes. I was supposed to get my antibiotics through these tubes.

In about half an hour the doc showed up in my room. He was all business and nothing personal. "I need to know one thing," he said. "You need to give me an honest answer, understood?" I nodded, not liking the way he was speaking.

"I need to know what you were using." I gasped. I hesitated for a bit, and then almost whispered, "Heroin."

"What was that? I can't hear you." He asked, as if on purpose, making me repeat what I dreaded to say.

"Heroin," I said louder, "but I was only doing it for one month and I was off of it for an entire week. I know it was stupid, and I didn't want to keep doing that." For some reason I found it important to tell him that. I needed him to understand that I wasn't just some junkie, that it was just an accident, a mistake, and I was off of the stuff. It was the way he looked at me that made me feel like I needed to tell him all that. It was this disgust and superiority in his look.

He sighed, ignoring what I just said, "You know what that means don't you?" he asked, sounding all business again.

"No," I shook my head.

"It means that we can't give you painkillers. They are the same chemicals as heroin for the most part, and they'd reinforce your addiction, and we can't let that happen. You want to quit right?"

I nodded.

"That means you are going to tolerate the pain." I nodded again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok everyone, here is the next chapter. Thank you everybody for reading. Enjoy.**

The doc showed up in the afternoon. He took a sample from my infected arm. He said that way they'll know what antibiotics I needed. In the meantime they hooked me up to antibiotic that was most likely needed in cases like this. He said they'll know by tomorrow what bacteria it is and even then it's not guaranteed it will respond to antibiotics 'cause lots of times it's resistant.

At six the whole gang showed up in my hospital room. Dally had told them what had happened, and they all showed up. The doc explained that they started antibiotics, but since it's been only a few hours it wasn't clear yet if the bacteria were responding to this antibiotic.

"When will it be clear?" Pony asked.

"Same time tomorrow." Pony squeezed my palm and said, "It's going to be ok Johnnycake. Hang in there." I nodded slightly, trying to suppress the pain.

"So how are they treatin' you?" Pony asked. I wanted to tell him that the doc is clearly looking down on me, but I didn't want to sound like a wuss. So I said, "Fine. They wouldn't give me painkillers though."

"How come?" Pony gasped.

"The doc said it's the same chemicals as heroin and since I'm trying to quit…" I trailed off.

"You told him you were shooting up heroin?" Dally piped in and by the tone of his voice I could tell that he didn't approve.

"Yeah, I had to. He knew anyways that I was shooting up. You saw how he looked at me." Dally shrugged and looked away.

"So how are you holdin' up?" Soda asked, "Are you able to tolerate the pain?"

"So far it's ok." I lied. The truth was the pain was killing me.

They stayed a while and then they were ready to leave.

"You need anything Johnny?" Pony asked.

"Not really, but maybe you can bring a book next time and read it to me or something to kill time, you know."

They left. I was in a lot of pain from my withdrawal, and the wound on my arm was hurting. I needed to throw up, but I was hooked up to the tubes with antibiotics. I pressed the button to call the nurse, but nobody showed up. I could hardly keep myself from throwing up. I kept pressing the button. Finally, somebody showed up – a different nurse, not the one that took care of me before. "Where's the fire?" she asked.

"I need to…" I could hardly keep myself from throwing up right there and then. She sensed that and took out the tubes from my veins.

"Let me know when you are done," she instructed, "I'll hook you back up."

The next day Pony and Two-Bit visited me after school. The others had to work. Pony brought the book just like I asked him to. He sat on the edge of my bed and started reading. It was short stories by Charles Dickens, and I liked it a whole lot.

I could see though that Two-Bit was bored. Sitting and reading was not his idea of spending time. Not even at the hospital. But he was trying not to show his boredom and sit through the reading for my sake. I felt kind of bad about that.

So I was listening to Pony reading, and I felt a little better. I was not concentrating on the pain, but on what Pony was reading. Then the doc showed up. Pony paled and squeezed my palm. He was staring at the doc, and it looked like he forgot how to blink. Needless to say I was apprehensive to hear what the doc had to say. He cleared his throat, and began.

"Well, the tests show that the bacteria are not responding to this antibiotic," Pony swallowed hard and got paler.

"We are going to start you Johnny on another antibiotic," the doc continued. "The nurse will be here to hook you up right away." He still talked like he was looking down on us, especially me for shooting up, but at least he was doing his job trying to help me get rid of this infection. "We will find the right antibiotic," he said, "even if it's after several tries."

"But in the meantime infection can spread," Pony managed to say.

"That's true," the doc nodded, "but we will act fast enough to prevent that from happening."

"So, tell me doc," Two-Bit said, "how long Johnny is going to stay here?"

"After we find the right antibiotic it should take about a week to get rid of the infection completely. I wish you sought medical help sooner."

I remembered him saying that they might have to amputate. I shuddered as I thought about that.

After the doc left, the nurse came in to hook me up to the new antibiotic. She asked the guys to wait outside while she was doing that. She also cleaned my wound again. That really hurt. After she was done, the guys came back. Pony sat on the edge of my bed again and kept reading. Two-Bit could hardly handle this anymore, I could tell.

"Hey Two-Bit," I said.

"Yeah, Johnnycake,"

"You don't have to stick around for my sake."

"What makes you say that Johnny?"

"It's just I dunno, I can see you are bored. You are not the reading type."

He looked at me hesitant, "You wouldn't mind if I left?" He asked slightly embarrassed.

"No, go ahead. I'll be fine. Pony you don't have to stick around either. I'm sure you have stuff to do and you have homework."

"No, I'll stay," Pony insisted, "the next story is going to be really good."

"Ok Johnny," Two-Bit said, "Get better. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure Two-Bit." And then he left.

Pony stayed for the rest of the day, and I was thankful. I was concentrating on what he was reading, and I almost forgot about my pain. Finally, it got dark and he had to go. "I'll see you tomorrow Johnny, get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning." And with that he left. Get some sleep, I thought, that was easier said than done. One of the withdrawal symptoms was insomnia, and I tossed and turned in bed for hours before I could finally fall asleep.

The next day Pony and Two-Bit came at four - right after school, and Dal showed up a little later. Then Darry, Soda and Steve showed up at six, after work. The doc told us that this antibiotic was not working either, and they hooked me up to yet another one. Dally was mad I could tell. His eyes were glistening dangerously as the doc spoke.

"Damn it," he cursed after the doctor left, "is this a hospital or what? Even we could take better care of him."

"It's ok Dal," I tried to calm him down, while cringing in pain.

"How is it ok?" he slammed his fist against the wall. "How is it ok? They said the infection can spread to other parts of the body, yet they can't even find the damn antibiotic to treat it."

Pony looked down, and Darry and Soda had pained expressions on their faces. Even Two-Bit wasn't grinning, and his gray eyes were stormy. I felt like I had to say something to calm them down, to make them worry less, but all I kept hearing in my mind was "we might have to amputate," and I realized that the more time passed, the more likely it was that they would have to amputate. I was terrified of that.

Finally, when it got late, and the visiting hours were over they left, and I was left alone with my pain and my insomnia. At least I got less throwing up episodes than before, so I was hoping that I would feel much better soon.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi everybody, before I continue I need your opinion on what's going to happen next. So I had this idea that even though the doctor treated Johnny's infection, because it was his job, he also looked down on greasers and felt that it was his responsibility not to let Johnny get away with drug possession. So as soon as Johnny's infection is gone, and he's ready to be discharged, the doctor turns him over to the cops for drug possession, and Johnny goes to jail for a month (I looked it up and the sentence for possession is usually a month).**

**In the meantime, while Johnny is in jail, the gang comes up with a solution for Johnny how to deal with his parents. I won't say what the solution is, 'cause I don't want to spoil it for you:)**

**So let me know if I should have Johnny go to jail or should I just have him in the hospital, and then the gang finds a solution for his problem while he is still in the hospital rather than jail. Let me know what you think in a review or pm. Whichever way you like better that's the way I'm going to go with this.I really appreciate your opinions:)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok here is the last chapter. I decided not to have Johnny go to jail. ****Thanks to everyone who supported this story. It's a little short 'cause I originally had Johnny going to jail, but I took it out. Anyway, here we go – enjoy. **

The next day the doc announced that they finally found the right antibiotic, and I should be ok in about a week.

"So, you don't have to amputate?" I asked hesitantly.

"Looks like we won't have to." Everybody signed in relief.

A week passed by pretty quickly. Pony came over every day and kept reading. We almost finished the book. I was in less pain every day, and I stopped throwing up. The rest of the guys also visited when they could. Even Steve. The wound on my arm started to heal. There was no puss anymore, and it was almost back to its normal color.

I was supposed to be discharged on Friday. I was excited to get out of the hospital, but that also meant going back home. Going back to those good for nothing parents, going back to beatings and hating my life. And this time I wouldn't have heroin to help me deal with all of that.

On Friday at around six Pony and Dally were picking me up from the hospital. "So are the withdrawals over by now?" Pony asked, and I nodded, "Finally."

"Great," he replied. I guess I didn't look so happy to get out 'cause I had to go back to my parents, and I guess Pony noticed that.

He looked at me worry in his eyes, "What's the matter man?" he asked, and then continued before I could reply, "Dally has really good news to tell you."

"Huh?" I looked up.

"Tell him Dal," Pony prompted.

"Well kid," Dally started. "We found a much better solution to your problems than heroin." I looked at him in anticipation.

"Well, listen to this – I got a job."

"You did what?"

"It's wild ain't it? But I got a job."

"Where? Somebody actually hired a greaser?"

"Yeah, at the stables, helping out with the horses. They really needed people. They didn't care that I'm a greaser."

"That's great…" I started, but he interrupted. "Do you know what that means?"

"What?" I kept looking at him, not sure where exactly he was going with this.

"This means that you can stay with me. I can now rent the room at Buck's permanently. You don't have to go back to these…" he wanted to curse I could tell, but he didn't for my sake, "to those parents of yours," he said, and then added, "You don't have to take another beating from them."

"You mean that?" I was shocked. Nobody ever did anything like that for me. And of all people it was Dally, my hero. "You'd do that for me?"

"Sure kid," he replied smiling. "And you know what? I can get you a job there too. Like I said they really need people."

I was lost for words, "I…sure… I'd love to work there…thanks Dal. You sure though? I mean about me stayin' with you and everything?"

"You bet."

I was overwhelmed. All I could think of was that I didn't have to go back home. And that I was going to stay with Dal out of all people. And that I was going to have a real job and I wouldn't have to depend on my parents.

We left the hospital. Pony wanted me to go to his house, but Dally wanted to take me to my new room that I would share with him, and then in the morning take me to the stables to get the job. So we dropped Pony off, and Dally drove to Buck's.

"It's not such a big room," Dal said as we entered, "but it sure is better than getting beat up all the time."

"Oh Dal," I said feeling overwhelmed with gratitude, "this is too much…"

"Don't say that man," he interrupted, "It's not enough."

Next morning Dal took me to talk to his boss. I had thought of getting a job in the past, but no one would hire a greaser, and I was too young and too small. But this time Dal put in a good word, and I was hired. Also if it was just me getting a job, it wouldn't have been enough to pay for rent and other stuff and to break free from my parents, but now with _both_ of us getting this job, an splitting the expenses it would work out.

On the way back I couldn't stop smiling. I was sitting in the passenger seat saying nothing, just smiling, and I could see in the corner of my eye Dallas glancing at me from time to time and smiling slightly. He parked the car, and we went into our room. _Our_ room - I liked the sound of that.

"It's going to be great kid," Dal said, ruffling my hair, "It's going to be great."

"It already is," I replied.

**A/N Some of you may think that Dally already had the room at Buck's, but I think he still had to pay for it. Why would Buck give him the room for free? Maybe sometimes he let him stay for free like that time that's mentioned in the book after Dally had a fight with Tim. But to have the room permanently Dally would have to pay rent so that's why he had to get this job. Anyway, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the story.**


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